Angel's Halo: Reclaimed (Angel's Halo MC #4)

by Terri Anne Browning

  Her auburn head rested on my chest instead of the pillows and I breathed in her clean little girl scent as I let the peace of holding her safe in my arms relax me enough that my eyes began to drift closed.

  Chapter Three

  Felicity

  The bus was finally quiet. Everyone had returned to their own buses hours ago and Nik had gone to bed not long after. Emmie and Mia were still sound asleep, having already slept nine hours, but I knew they needed the rest. After giving Jagger his usual nighttime bottle, I laid him down for the night and closed the door to the sleep area, or as Emmie called it, the roosts.

  I was exhausted but didn’t think I could sleep. Sighing, I dropped down onto the couch in the living room before pulling the cheap little cellphone out of my pocket. I traced my fingers over the numbers I knew by heart without punching them in. The need to call home and just hear Raven’s voice was overwhelming. I hadn’t talked to my best friend in over a year, but right then I needed her more than I’d ever needed her.

  Shaking my head, I tossed the burner phone to the opposite end of the couch and sat back, frowning at the television hanging from the wall without seeing it. Nik had been the last one to watch it, switching back between the local and national news before settling on a baseball game on ESPN. The game was off now, but the highlights of the game were being replayed. I wasn’t much for baseball, but I didn’t care what was on. It wasn’t like I was actually watching it.

  Cursing under my breath, I reached for the stupid phone again and actually had the numbers punched in before I deleted them all again. Tears burned my throat and blinded my eyes for a few minutes before I could get hold of myself. I wondered how Raven was doing. Was she back with Bash? Had she settled into being a mom for his little girl? Did she miss me as much as I missed her?

  Was Jet home?

  That last question whispered through the back of my head and I flinched at the thought of the man who still held on to my heart so tightly. I didn’t let myself think about him often—or so I kept lying to myself. I thought of him a hundred different times a day, I just pretended I didn’t.

  The guilt of what I’d asked of him still churned in my stomach. I had known exactly what asking that favor could do—that if he didn’t do it right he’d be stuck in prison for the rest of his life. I’d worried about him getting hurt while he did it, of him hating me for asking it of him, and of how much it would cost him to have to stay inside for the rest of his life.

  What it would cost Raven and her family.

  Even with the guilt eating at me I still hadn’t dared call Hawk back to see if it had been done. I’d been too much of a coward to call again. Just hearing my friend’s voice that one time I’d called had caused an ache inside my chest that still hadn’t completely gone away.

  The only reason I did know that Jet had done what I’d asked of him, and succeeded without getting caught, was through Emmie’s security guy, Seller. He’d been keeping an eye on things for my boss. He was the one who had called Emmie and told her that Vince Grady had been killed in a fight in prison. That he’d attacked some guy and been killed in self-defense. Emmie had been so stunned that I’d found myself confessing to her about what I’d done.

  “I called in a favor,” I’d told her as I’d sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk. She used her guesthouse as her office so she didn’t have to bring clients into the house around the kids. Mia was at school and Jagger was taking his afternoon nap, but I’d brought the baby monitor with me just in case he woke up early.

  Emmie had frowned up at me. “A favor?”

  I’d nodded, meeting her green gaze. “I couldn’t stand the way you and Lucy were so scared all the time, Emmie. I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped, but I’ve come to think of you and your family as my own. There was something I could do to help you and so I did it. I put a hit on Grady.”

  My boss had just blinked at me for a full minute before tears had filled her eyes. “Felicity—”

  “Please don’t think less of me for doing this,” I’d quickly begged. “Or tell anyone that I did it. I’m not worried about what would happen to me, but the guy who did it is…special to me. I don’t want it to blow back on him.”

  “Felicity, I would never have asked this of you, but… thank you,” she’d whispered. “Thank you.”

  I’d just given her a small, grim smile. “Maybe you can sleep a little easier at night now.”

  “Maybe.” She’d glanced out the window of the office but I doubted she actually saw any of the beautiful scenery.

  Tears had stung my eyes as I’d gotten to my feet. All too quickly I’d let her and her strange little family into my heart.

  The next time I’d seen Seller I’d asked him about Jet. He must have known about the guy who had been in the fight with Grady. He would be able to tell me if Jet had gotten into trouble for killing the vile man.

  “As far as I know it was ruled self-defense, Miss Bolton. I believe Mr. Hannigan will be released on time in a few weeks.”

  That was supposed to be at the end of last summer. I’d had the date marked on my calendar in my room at my mother’s house. I’d been counting down the days until Jet was home all the way up until I’d left. After I’d started working for Emmie, I’d still counted the days, mentally reminding myself every night as I’d gone to bed how many more sleeps it would be until Jet would be home with his family.

  I didn’t kid myself that he might come looking for me once he was home. I knew he was glad to be rid of me. I’d just been his sister’s best friend who had loved him so obsessively and ruined his life. He was probably deep in Bubbles or one of the other sheep right now.

  Jealousy sliced through me like a blade through flesh. Grabbing the phone, I headed off the bus. I ignored the big men standing by the front door and the others stationed around the perimeter of the bus. I needed to clear my head, walk in the cooling night air and maybe even shed a few tears without the fear of someone seeing them.

  As I walked past all the other buses toward the darkened street, I held the phone against my chest. It was my last lifeline to my old life, one I was missing more and more with each passing day. But it was a life I couldn’t return to. Not now. That life would suck the rest of my spirit—hell, my frigging will to live—right out of me. I was needed here with Emmie and her family.

  It was nice to be needed for a change.

  Lord knew I’d never been needed before. My mother hadn’t needed me, hadn’t even wanted me. I didn’t know why she hadn’t just had an abortion to rid her of the ‘problem’ in the first place. I’d needed Raven, but I didn’t think she’d needed me. Maybe she had a little, but not enough. Jet hadn’t needed me, that was for sure. For a few months a helpless little life had needed me, but Westcliffe had destroyed my chances of ever holding that precious little baby. From what the doctors had told me the night I’d miscarried, I might never have a baby of my own. He’d been thorough in his beating, after all.

  Westcliffe had left me alive, but he’d taken my will to live when he’d killed the baby that had been growing inside of me, taking away my last connection to the man I’d loved—and, stupidly, still loved.

  Emmie’s family had given me back the will I needed to keep going. I’d found a purpose with them. I’d found myself again, and I actually liked the me I was when I was with them.

  I still missed everyone though. Not the life, but the people. I even missed my mother.

  Stopping under a streetlight, I glared down at my burner phone. I picked up a new one every few weeks, using cash instead of a credit card. The Club’s connections were far reaching and I wouldn’t put it past them to find me through them. I never used the phone though, but I couldn’t keep from wanting—needing—that small link to them.

  My thumb punched in Raven’s home number and then hovered over the connect button. I shouldn’t—it was too risky, especially this close to Creswell Springs, which was only about a two hours’ drive from where we currently where. I knew th
e homesickness would flood in and I’d want to go home. I kept trying to remind myself it wasn’t home anymore. It wasn’t.

  So what’s the harm in calling her?

  Clenching my eyes closed, I leaned back against the light post. “Fuck it,” I groaned and let my thumb touch the one button I’d been fighting with myself not to hit all night.

  The phone rang three times on the other end before someone answered. “Hello?” a somewhat familiar female voice answered, but it wasn’t the one I wanted to hear.

  “Is Raven home?” I murmured, wondering why Gracie was still at the Hannigans’. Shouldn’t she have found her own place by now?

  “She’s putting the baby to bed. Can I take a message? I’ll get her to call you back as soon as she can,” she promised.

  Baby? What baby?

  “Um…no. I-I’ll just call her back.” Before the other woman could say another word I disconnected and let the hand holding the phone drop to my side.

  Had Raven had a baby? Was my best friend a mother now?

  “It’s not safe out here, Flick.”

  I jerked at the sound of that name, spoken in that voice, and dropped my phone. I heard the cheap thing break, but didn’t care. My head snapped up in the direction his voice had come from and I saw his outline in the darkness just ten feet away. My heart was in my throat, both from the moment of fright and the excitement of hearing the one voice I’d thought I’d never hear again. As I watched, Jet stepped forward and I had to gulp in air all of a sudden.

  Holy hell. Was it me, or had he gotten bigger? Jet had never been a small man. His shoulders had been wide and muscular for as long as I could remember, but now those shoulders seemed twice as wide. His muscles seemed to pile up on top of one another, causing his shirt to look distressed, as if it would rip if he breathed the wrong way.

  He wasn’t wearing his cut and the jeans he wore hung deliciously low on his hips. The boots on his feet were the same ones I remembered all too well, though. His favorite. My eyes shot back up to his face, noticing the slight paleness to his usually sun-golden skin.

  “There’s a lunatic on the run and you’re out here by yourself?” he snapped at me. “Are you trying to get hurt, woman?”

  It took me a moment to find my voice. “H-how did you know about that?” I was dreaming. That was the only explanation I could come up with. I’d been so desperate to hear a familiar voice that I was dreaming. There was no way Jet could be standing there looking so worried about me, not for real.

  Right?

  “Everyone on the planet knows about it, Flick. It’s all over the news.” He took another step closer and I saw the fire in his olive-green eyes. This close, I could smell the mixture of scents that I would always associate with Jet Hannigan. It was full of citrus and spice and for some reason the combination had always gone straight to my head quicker than a shot of good Irish whiskey. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  “I’m not alone,” I reminded him in a voice that didn’t hold the strength I knew I needed when dealing with this man. Dream or not—hell, I still wasn’t sure—I needed to be strong where Jet was concerned. “I’m with you.”

  He shook his head, making his blond hair fall across his forehead. “What if I’d been the fucker who is terrorizing your boss? Huh? Whoever it is isn’t below shooting someone, Flick. Do you want to be her next victim?”

  For the first time in days I hadn’t been thinking about the woman who had turned my new family’s life upside down. I wasn’t scared to face down that bitch. I almost relished the thought of running into her. I’d show her what it felt like to be scared of someone. A chick didn’t grow up with Raven Hannigan and not know how to fight back. I would have shown that crazy cunt all the things I’d picked up growing up in the MC would.

  Ignoring Jet’s questions, I asked a few of my own. “How’s Raven? Hawk?”

  His eyes narrowed to little slits at the mention of his brother’s name. “Hawk has an ol’ lady now. Gracie Morgan. Raven’s married and has a son. She called him Max.”

  Happiness for my best friend filled my chest. Raven was married and had a baby boy. I could picture Raven with her son, and the ache to see her grew until my heart actually ached with the need. “I’m happy for her.”

  “Well, she’s not happy with you right now. She’s been in tears almost all day because she saw the news. I’m under strict orders not to come home without you.” He crossed his arms over his wide chest, making the shirt strain that much more over the new muscles.

  I laughed, figuring that I really was dreaming. There was no way in hell I was going home with him. Just as there was no way in hell that Jet would actually want to take me there.

  Jet

  How was it possible that she was even more beautiful than I remembered?

  She wasn’t as thin as she’d been when she’d come to San Quentin to tell me she was leaving, but she wasn’t as luscious as she had been when we’d been together. It was the perfect in-between, with all her curves rounded in an hourglass figure that made my body ache with a need that no one but this female could ease. Her hair was shorter now and dyed a vibrant cherry red that put a natural blush into her cheeks. It was because of that hair that it had taken me a moment to recognize her when I’d seen her on the news weeks ago—but only a moment. I could spot my Flick a mile away.

  Thanks to the news coverage of what had been going on with her boss, I hadn’t had to go looking for her. As soon as my parole officer had left the house earlier that evening, I’d gotten on my bike and rode straight to her. The damned idiot man had taken his sweet-ass time and I’d been out of patience by the time he’d left, but now that I had my eyes on the only person I’d been aching to see for far too fucking long, all that irritation quickly faded.

  But it was only to be replaced with a new frustration. Didn’t she care about her own safety? She was out on a dark, deserted street several blocks away from the tour bus I knew she’d been staying on. There was no sight of any of the many guards I’d been watching for the last hour or more, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to get inside that fucking bus and get Flick without causing a shit-storm I didn’t particularly want to stir up.

  Then Flick had just walked off that bus and started walking. I’d followed her at a slower pace, but I probably could have been running after her and she wouldn’t have heard me. She’d seemed to be lost in her own mind, as she’d gazed down at the burner phone in her hands. I’d held back when she’d suddenly stopped and made a call. I hadn’t heard what she’d said, but the look on her face had made me pick up my pace.

  Flick had been in pain and my only thought was to wipe that heartbreaking look off her beautiful face.

  “Are you even allowed to leave Trinity County, Jet? I figured you would still be answerable to your parole officer. You’re going to get tossed back in prison if you aren’t careful.” She sounded both disbelieving and concerned.

  “My parole was up today, Flick. I’ve got all the paperwork I need. I’ve been waiting impatiently for this day to fucking get here. Otherwise I would have come after your sexy ass weeks ago.”

  A disbelieving snort escaped her. “Yeah, okay.” Flick shook her head, a sad smile on her luscious lips. “Well, thanks for the visit. I’m going back to the bus now… I’m probably asleep on the couch. I’ll probably wake up with a damn crick in my neck,” she muttered to herself.

  I caught her wrist as she started to walk past me. Her entire body seemed to jerk as if she’d been electrocuted. Her head shot up and confusion darkened her eyes for a second before the confusion turned to a glare. “You’re really here.”

  “Of course I’m fucking here. Did you not hear a word I just said, Flick?”

  She rolled her beautiful blue eyes at me and I wanted to spank her luscious, sexy ass. “Yeah, I heard you, but I didn’t believe it. I thought I was dreaming. What the hell, Jet? You can’t be here.” Her eyes glanced around us a little frantically. “The paparazzi is everywhere, damn i
t. If they see you here…”

  I shrugged, unconcerned about any damn paparazzi. If anything, the whole pap thing would work in my favor. “What’s wrong, Flick? Afraid they will put two and two together and come up with fifteen? Scared they will find out I killed a man for your boss?”

  Her face went deathly pale and I realized I’d hit the nail right on the head. An evil grin tried to lift my lips but I stopped it before it could completely form. I’d been wondering how the hell I was going to get Flick to come home with me willingly. Now I knew exactly how I could without having to tie her sweet ass to the back of my bike. It was a bastard thing to do, but I wasn’t going to let that keep me from getting Flick home where she belonged.

  “Be quiet,” she commanded, glancing around once again.

  “Why? It’s not a secret, is it?” I leaned closer to her, lowering my voice to a stage whisper as I lifted a brow at her. “I killed that fucker for Emmie Armstrong, right? She’s the reason you had me kill Grady.”

  As soon as I’d realized just who Flick was working for, I’d done some digging on Emmie Armstrong and her family. I listened to Demon’s Wings often, but I hadn’t ever really known anything about the band. Emmie had been the band’s surrogate sister—and from what the papers said, was really Jesse Thornton’s little sister. She’d been orphaned at eleven and gone to live with the band. At eighteen she’d become their road manager and then right before she’d married Nik Armstrong, she had started her own management company.

  I also knew that Vince Grady had been her adopted niece’s biological father. The sonofabitch had taken the girl, putting Emmie in the hospital with a concussion and the possible miscarriage of her second child. I’d gotten all that information from tabloid stories, so I wasn’t sure how true all that shit was. It hadn’t been long afterward that Grady had showed up in San Quentin with me. I remember the guy being one big bruise with a broken nose—fuck, a broken face—and several casts. I could only imagine what Thornton had done to the prick when he’d gotten his hands on him. There had been true rage in the beating of Grady.